Frustrated
by lymerikk
Summary: Ivan loves to frustrate Yao. He loves to tease him. Yao gets angrier and angrier, and gets very close to losing his temper one evening. This evening, Ivan's got popsicles. RoChu. Oneshot. What is this. Rated T to be safe.


**based on a weird conversation i had w/ my friend laveniis**

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><p>"Thank you for dinner tonight, Yao. You know how I love your cooking." Ivan's words were sweet, and he bore a little smile. "However, I see you're trying to carry some away with you. You've got a spot of sauce on your finger." He smiled, as the pair entered Yao's bedroom.<p>

"So I do. I'll just wipe it off-" He started, but looked down as his hand was taken hold of, and paused.

"No need," Ivan smiled, crouching in front of the man. As the two had been dating for quite a while, Ivan had grown quite fond of teasing Yao in various ways. Whether it was jokingly changing his mind in the middle of sex, or leaving the milk out when he came over, it was always quite the riot. "I'll handle it for you."

Before Yao could even think about what Ivan was planning to do, the man had put his mouth around one of his fingers, and began to suckle lightly.

"Oh my god," Yao murmured. "Ivan, that's hot sauce-"

Alright, Ivan had smartly forgotten that their meal had been a spicy pork dish, and was suffering the price. His mouth was on fire. But he had to do this. He had to be strong. He definitely wasn't going to embarrass himself in front of Yao.

Trying not to cringe as his tongue was inflamed, Ivan continued to lick at and suck on Yao's finger. Now, he was on the verge of tears. But he would never show that to Yao, not in this situation. Despite the burning, he attempted to reenact some of the techniques that he would use when giving oral, and well, he had plenty of practice. More importantly, he knew what got Yao exactly where he wanted him.

Yao stared down at the man, wondering if he was even registering just how spicy the sauce was. He seemed unaffected. Perhaps his taste buds were numbed after downing two servings of his cooking this evening? Yao shuffled his weight from foot to foot. Perhaps it was the fact that Ivan was making such faces right now, or perhaps it was the pleasured noises he was eliciting, but something along those lines caused Yao to become more than a little distracted. Ivan was mocking him, and he damn well knew it.

"Ivan?.." Yao murmured, staring down at his boyfriend with narrowed copper eyes. Ivan opened his eyes, waiting for Yao to continue. "Do you reckon you could perhaps suck on something that isn't my finger?.." As much as he and Ivan got about to sex, Yao often had to be cautious of Ivan's tricks. With a small popping noise, Ivan released Yao's finger, and nodded.

"Certainly!" He chirped, before standing up, and walking out of the room.

Yao stood there for a moment, watching with a weary expression as he waited for Ivan to return. When the man did not, he pouted and walked back into the living room. On the couch sat Ivan, and he had apparently just turned on the television.

"That was rude, just to walk out of the room!" Yao scolded, standing behind the sitting Russian and hitting him lightly on the head.

"Oh, hello again, Yao," Ivan cooed, although his speech was hard to understand.

"What's up with your voice-" Yao started, but stopped talking when Ivan turned, trying to smile while his mouth was occupied by a popsicle. Yao let out a groan.

"Did you really just take a popsicle from the freezer, sit down, and start to eat it? Really?" He grumbled, hitting Ivan again. Frowning, he grabbed the remote, and turned off the television.

"That was rude, Yao," Ivan puffed. "I was watching that."

"No, you weren't." Yao mused, raising a brow. "Since when do you watch the tennis?"

"Point taken," he whined, turning around on the couch, and looking up at Yao with puppy eyes. "But is there a problem with me taking an interest in sport?"

"Depends on what the sport is. I wouldn't mind if you got into riding." Yao smirked, trying to get back at Ivan. "Oh, yes, I'm sure you'd be great at that."

"No thanks," Ivan answered bluntly, licking at the popsicle ever so seductively. "Maybe ice skating would be my thing." He hummed, knowing that he was getting somewhere with Yao. Well, he could definitely tell, since he had noticed how Yao's trousers seemed a little tighter. Ivan smirked and grinned up at Yao. "Is something wrong, Yao?"

"Hey, let's go back to the bedroom," Yao suggested quietly, mussing up Ivan's hair with one hand.

"Oh? If you say so, Yao," Ivan hummed, getting up and lamely going along as Yao dragged him by the collar.

"Come on, Ivan. Don't do this to me." Yao sighed, watching pathetically as the Russian continued to lick the popsicle. "Don't act innocent, either."

Ivan didn't reply, too engrossed in eating. "Hey, talk to me!" Yao puffed, grabbing Ivan's arm. Surprised, the larger man let go of the popsicle, and it ended up hitting Yao, and then dropping to the floor.

"Aw, I was enjoying that.." he puffed, looking to Yao like he was about to cry. Honestly, this man could not be more annoying than when he was choosing to tease. "And now you're going to be sticky.. Well, I don't want to have sex if you're going to be sticky from a popsicle," Ivan shrugged, before turning, and walking quaintly out of the room again.

"Ivan, get back here!" Yao exclaimed, clenching his fists in pure frustration.

"Sorry, Yao, I should be going home now! I'll be taking more popsicles," he hummed from the next room. Before Yao could reply, there was the sound of the door closing. Great. He was seriously going to break something if Ivan did this again. Fuming, he dug his mobile phone from his pocket, and rang Ivan's number. He had only just left, so perhaps if he yelled enough, Ivan would come back.

"_Hello?_" came the voice on the other end.

"Ivan! Get back here at once! You can't just walk out of my apartment like that!" Yao puffed, pacing up a storm.

"_Oh, you still want to have sex? I'm sorry, but I just ate two popsicles. You're supposed to wait an hour._"

"That's for swimming, you idiot," Yao hissed, clearly done with Ivan's foolishness. "And I'm not as shallow as to focus on sex. You didn't even kiss me goodbye!"

"_So I didn't.. Oh, I feel a little bad now. Come to the alley just outside the apartment building. I'll be waiting._" With that, Ivan hung up.

Yao felt as if he was going to scream. Oh right, he actually did. Yelling, he exclaimed various insults in Chinese, frustrated with Ivan's shenanigans. Huffing, he put on a coat and hurried down the stairwell of the apartment building. He was going to destroy Ivan if this was another trick.

He saw the man waiting at the alley, large figure casting a shadow in his direction. He was looking smug, arms crossed over his chest as he leant against the wall.

"Good evening again, Yao," Ivan greeted, dipping his head. Yao held back the urge to hit this man.

"Evening. Although I only came to tell you goodnight." He sneered, taking a step closer.

"Oh, I'm hurt," whispered Ivan, leaning down and pecking Yao's lips with his own. Instinct pulling at him, Yao pressed his lips against Ivan's once more, this time holding the kiss and digging his fingers into the Russian's shirt. Using all of his self-control, Yao pulled back, and looked away.

"Er, my bad. Goodnight, Ivan."

"If you're that passionate," scoffed Ivan, pressing another quick kiss to Yao's lips. "Then the night is far from over, comrade." He smirked. Moving into the alley, it didn't take very long for clothes to be removed, and for the two to take part in the lovers' endeavor.

Just prior to the climax, Ivan managed to get the last laugh in their little spat. And he grinned, because he knew that he'd won.

"Oh, and I left the milk out."


End file.
